


Lucky (?) Ging

by Mask



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cliffhangers, Contracts, Crypts and Tombs, Exploration, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Mythical Beings & Creatures, Near Death Experiences, Succubi & Incubi, Trials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 19:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5303168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mask/pseuds/Mask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ging Freecss works with a team of explorers. They travel the world learning about various historical mysteries and understanding different cultures. This time, they've gone to a region where a mysterious tomb remains largely unexplored. Upon learning of its existence, Ging sees it as a challenge and goes to find what lays inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been cut into two parts for the sake of transitions.

It took three days to set up camp. The explorers were told to set up a mile down from the nearest village. Whether it had something to do with tradition or xenophobia was something only the coordinators knew. After getting properly set up, it took another two days to scout and map out the area without any guides. The explorers came together to sort through their findings and synchronise their equipment. It took hours, but when the team was ready, one of the directors called for everyone to gather their equipment.

“Alright. Let's get this expedition on the road.” He looked around as everyone moved towards the opening of the tent. His shoulders slumped, seeing that there was still a man reclined over a row of unopened crates.

          “Ging. We're heading out. You coming or not?”

There was a moment of silence before anything happened. Ging groaned, probably louder that he needed to, and kicked his legs over the side of the crates. He rubbed his knuckles against his cheek, waking himself up a bit. He opened one eye, staring at the director. Ah, right. He had almost forgotten, what with all the waiting around he had been doing.

          “Took long enough,” the explorer stated. He lowered his hands down into his lap. “I could have gone on myself if everyone was going to dally all day.”

          The director dismissed his words with a laugh. “True enough, but then we would lose track of _you_ and have to go on a whole different search.”

          “I'm sure some of the others wouldn't feel the same way.”

Ging pushed himself from the crates and stretched his arms. He walked towards the tent entrance, pausing only to pull his duffle bag onto his shoulder. The director nodded and stepped out of the way, letting Ging leave first.

It was beautiful outside. Ging tilted his head up, staring at the thick white clouds that blocked the sun. The air was crisp, a bit humid. Even without checking, Ging knew it had to be in the high 80s, maybe low 90s at the highest. It was perfect weather. He was glad he wore the proper attire for it. At least he thought so. The others had fought him to wear shorts or a short sleeve shirt at the least. He snorted at their weakness and knew that he was dressed perfectly.

He and the director caught up to the others easily enough. They were just down the hill but had stopped to take pictures and notes of their surroundings. Ging figured he would join one of them. Without breaking his stride, Ging moved his bag to his front and clutched it against his chest. He rifled through the front pocket and eventually produced a small camera. He wasn't too focused on taking notes right now. He knew that his memory would be better with visuals instead of his own scrawl on paper. He settled in with the rest of the crowd, coming shoulder to bicep with another one of the explorers.

          “Glad you could join us,” came a teasing voice.

          Ging adjusted the duffle bag on his shoulder before lifting his camera. “Kouda.”

Kouda chuckled a bit but otherwise didn't say anything in response to the short greeting. They talked very briefly about the colourful flora in front of them. There was a multicoloured flower that caught Ging's attention. Unlike all the others, this one had dew on its petals. He gently touched his fingers under it.

         “Aah, it's one of my favourites,” said the director, coming over to join them. “I saw it last time I was here. I still have no idea what it's called.”

         “I'll make sure to ask about it,” Ging said, stepping back and lifting his camera.

He took a few pictures of it from different angles and distances. He scrolled through his images, deleting the ones he wasn't too fond of. The team wandered around for a bit longer, chatting and note taking. The director soon called for everyone's attention and took them down the path again. Ging was silent for a couple of seconds before barking out a laugh. It was like being on a field trip. That's what this reminded him of. He ignored the strange looks he got, still smiling at the connection. Aah yeah. That brought back some fond memories. After that moment of self-indulgence was over, Ging observed his surroundings. Most of the distracting flora disappeared after half a mile. The sky was obscured by interlocking trees that now lined their pathway. Ging took pictures, and Kouda marveled over the shadowy patterns left on the ground. It was a forty minute walk to the village, give or take some breaks. An older woman was distractedly fiddling with her shell necklace when they approached. She perked up quickly and opened her arms out to the director. Ging looked past them both and towards the stilted brick houses. He raised his brows curiously but waited until everyone started moving again before making his way over to them.

The group was led into one of the houses. Inside, there were wooden tables set out with papers and artifacts on display. The local historians met up with the foreigners at the tables. Hands were shaken; names were exchanged. Ging walked up and down the length of the tables, half listening to the conversations around him. Laughter sounded behind him, and a curious hum floated up in front of him. One of the historians approached him and asked if anything caught his interesting. Not at first, he admitted. Looking closely at the spread in front of him, Ging finally decided to ask about the two carved boxes. Despite the decorations, they looked… plain in a way. The historian, “Lotka”, lit up and reached out, passionately regaling the surprisingly deep significance of the boxes. Midway through the second one, which was largely the same history wise with a few noticeable differences, Ging lowered his duffle bag and tucked it under the table.

The two walked together further down the table, and Ging stopped, spotting a peculiar looking coin resting on a dusty square of dark purple fabric. The fabric itself was frayed at one end. Despite its soft look, it felt like sand under his fingertips. Ging grunted in surprise, but soon he reached out for the coin. He picked it up, and it was strangely cold under his touch. Curious.

          “Ah… That's one of my favourites,” Lotka stated, motioning to the coin in Ging's hand. “This is an item of great interest.”

          “What do you mean?”

          The historian started to speak when: “Ging. Perfect.”

Ging turned back towards the voice. Kouda approached with another explorer, a redhead called Nolat. Kouda looked from Ging to Lotka and managed to look sheepish.

          “Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt.”

          “It's alright. I was just about to talk about this coin.” The historian offered a hand to Ging, who handed over the coin silently. “Right, well. This coin has been passed down with a series of belongings, dating back at least one hundred years ago.”

          “That doesn't seem too long ago,” Kouda stated, crossing his arms.

          “It's not when you think about it, but it's _at least_ one hundred years old. I personally believe it to be one _thousand_ years, or at least the idea of it. Here's why I think so.” 

Ging, Kouda, and Nolat listened attentively as Lotka broke down the age of the fabric the coin laid upon. The material it was made of, the way that it was knitted together, and the dye all spoke of years far behind them. The coin suffered minor surface damage: some nicks, some scratches. It was reminiscent of other currency from past eras, but it also looked new _enough_. Lotka said there was a brief period where this same currency came back into use. It lasted about fifty years, and soon this currency was never circulated again. Lotka lowered the fabric and coin back into their original spots. Kouda took the time to speak, holding up a map.

          “Ging. I thought you might be interested in this.”

          “What is it?” Ging lifted his chin slightly, eyeing the object in his coworker's hand.

          “It's a gen-u-ine treasure map,” Nolat said, smiling sharply. “Found it o'er by Costan, by the way.”

          Kouda unfurled the map. “Says here it'll take us to The Tomb on the Hill.” 

Ging _felt_ a change in the atmosphere. It didn't come from anyone in front of him. There was a definite tension that he couldn't immediately place. He looked back over his shoulder and saw that Lotka was standing stock still with wide eyes. He furrowed his brow and turned to face the historian properly.

          “You okay?”

          “Yes,” Lotka spoke suddenly as if starting from a dream. “I just, ah…" The historian trailed off for a moment before trying again. "That map you're holding is a fake.”

          Kouda frowned, looking over the item in his hands. “Really?”

          “You sure? They were makin' a big deal out of it.” Nolat pointed a thumb over her shoulder.

          “Yes," Lotka replied, voice lowered, "we typically don't have many full-fledged explorers coming this way these days, and so it's easier to just leave a map with a few changes." Kouda and Nolat exchanged a curious look. Ging slid his hands into his pockets, smiling a bit. Lotka continued, " _But_ if you want the real artifact, it will take you to The Tomb on the Hill.” Before any of the others could respond, Lotka asked, “Are you sure you want that?”

          “Is the tomb cursed or something?” Kouda was the one to ask.

          “We're not sure, but it is dangerous. We've had more than a few people return to us in near debilitated states. Some injuries were shallow. Others returned with limbs missing. What was strange that they didn't notice their wounds. They knew that they were hurt but couldn't register anything beyond that until we brought it to their attention.”

          “That is… weird…” Nolat said, hesitating. She looked between Ging and Kouda nervously.

          “Can't be that bad,” Ging replied with an easy smile. “So, where's the real thing?”

          “Ging!” Nolat and Kouda exclaimed in unison.

          “Are you absolutely sure you wish to…” Lotka met Ging's gaze, took in his unwavering smile, and realised that there was no point in questioning him. “I suppose you are. Alright… But you can't say that I didn't warn you.”

          “I'll remember that as I'm plummeting to my doom.”

Lotka laughed in surprise, head shaking. Ging followed the historian past an archway. He heard more footsteps follow behind him and knew that his coworkers came along as well. Lotka didn't take them far. They went two rooms over into a quieter, neater area. A large chest sat up on a white clothed table. Lotka quietly headed over and opened it, revealing several drawers. The three explorers waited silently as a stack of papers was revealed. Lotka set them aside and pulled out a fabric band and another coin, older than the one left in the other room.

          “This is the real map. If you decide to travel, you must take all that I have laid out for you.” The historian focused on the fabric band, touching it gingerly. “We've kept watch of these items for generations. Typical though it may sound, we have had many people try to search the tomb and collect what lay within.”

          Ging eyed the papers and nodded to them. “Looks like more than just a map.”

          “There are also letters, laying out the details of the map and what lies within the tomb. There's also another letter from the original keeper. In every document, it's 'encouraged', shall we say, that you carry these with you.”

          “ You've read this?” Kouda asked.

          “Of course! I must know what I'm guarding. Even though I'm not an adventurer, this has discouraged any idea to pursue any treasures within the tomb.”

“Sounds scary,” Ging joked. In spite of his playful tone, he heard an agreeing hum behind him.

Lotka began rolling up the papers and wrapped the fabric band around them, holding them in place. 

“Exit the village through the main path and go west. Take that road to the tomb. It's very straight forward. Getting around will be a bit more difficult from there as you will learn.” Lotka handed over the papers to Ging before looking to each explorer in turn.

Ging grinned and held the map up, eye level. “Well! Looks like we're going on an adventure.”

“Seems like it,” Nolat said in defeat.

Lotka smiled softly and motioned for the three to step out of the room. Once in the main room, Kouda announced where they would be going, and Ging ignored the curious voices and expressions as he exited the building.


	2. Chapter 2

The walk wasn't very long, at least not to Ging. He handed over the papers to Nolat and Kouda since they wanted to read. They discussed the contents with growing interest and concern. Ging was in his own world, taking in the sights and thinking of the challenge just ahead of them. Despite common belief, he wasn't a fool, and he knew that he wasn't going to get himself killed. The tomb slowly came into view as they walked. The tone of Kouda and Nolat's voice didn't sound as excited as Ging felt. He didn't think anything of it until they were walking through the tomb entrance.

The archway was made from carvings of headless animals, and the foyer had a low ceiling with swirling embossing on its surface. Ging glanced left and right, wondering which way to go or if it would matter either way. Just as he made a decision, he realised that there weren't any footsteps behind him. Ging glanced back over his shoulder and scowled.

          “You comin'?” he shouted at the other two explorers, who looked to each other.

          “We'll meet you back at the camp alright?” The dark haired one replied.

          “Ging, this looks ways too dangerous; maybe you should just come with us,” said the redhead.

          “Oh come on, seriously?”

          “You've got to read these,” Kouda extended out the map and letters, hastily and tightly rolled without the fabric band around them. “Once you do, you'll change your mind too.”

Ging stared at them both blankly before walking closer towards them. He reached out for the papers, silently taking them from Kouda. He unfurled them, flipping through the pages until he found the map. He let out a little “ah” before raising the documents in acknowledgement.

          “Found what I needed. See you later.”

          “Ging, wait!” Kouda called out to him.

          “I'll see you at the camp, right? Worst case scenario.”

Ging kept walking, even when he heard the frustrated groans behind him. He wasn't about to put a pause to his exploration just because the other two felt spooked. He checked the map once he entered the tomb's main hall. Sunlight poured in from above. Pillars lined the walls. Leveled structures decorated the staircase. Ging distractedly curled up his map and let out a calming breath. He had made it inside. This was only the easy part. He figured it would only get more complicated from here.

And he absolutely wasn't wrong.

The first few rooms were mostly empty. He took a few moments to examine the architecture and the walls, committing as much as he could to memory. It was a shame he didn't think to bring his camera. Though, it was likely that he would probably fuck up and break the damn thing. Maybe it was in his best interest that he left it behind. When he finally consulted his map, he was finally put on the right path. Ging soon found himself in an enclosed cloister with several doors lining the left wall. The map saved him a lot of trouble choosing the right door, but he opened one of the other doors out of curiosity. The room was abnormally dark. The only light poured in from the open door. Ging leaned his head in and saw a shallow pit of spikes in the floor. Nodding his head, the explorer closed that door and went through the correct one.

He jogged into the next room and looked around. The room was large and innocent looking. … To the point where it was almost suspicious. Ging frowned, wondering where the next door was. Ah. After a bit of looking, he finally found it.

 _Great,_ Ging thought to himself. The next door was right above his head, and he needed a way to get up there. The explorer took a moment to observe the wall in front of him. The structure was sound, despite the missing bricks and cracks in its surface. He decided to take a chance. It was better than standing around, and if this didn't work, he would just try something else. He rubbed his hands together and stepped closer to the wall. “Well, time to go,” he muttered to himself.

If he was a ballsy kind of guy, Ging would have made quick work of the climb, but certain niches and handholds were shallow or slipperier than he expected. _Only an idiot would try to rush through this,_ he griped to himself. He swung up to another ledge, flinging himself with the movement. _Or take forever climbing up here…_ He tucked his foot into a notch and shoved upward. Ging reached up and secured his hold pushing up again. He hissed, feeling the familiar break of skin on his fingers. “Dammit,” he grumbled to himself, finally pulling up to the top. He turned himself around and sat down on the ledge.

The cut on his finger was shallow. It was just a bit irritating, but he would live. Ging shifted backwards and came to stand shortly after. He dusted his hands, spinning around to look at the open doorway behind him.

His luck didn't get much better. The door lead him through a narrowing corridor. Without thinking, he turned right down another hallway, which was thankfully more spacious. He continued down the hall and cursed when the ground gave out under his feet. He caught himself – another painful attack to his hand – and pulled up after a couple of moments struggling. He didn't use the map and instead made the judgement call to double back the way he came. He made it to the very end and braced his hand against the wall in front of him. He could hear the telltale sound of brick sliding and pushed harder. The wall fell away in a heap of rubble, revealing a hallway lit by torches.

Ging carefully stepped over the rubble as he made his way into lit room. When he neared a torch, he unfurled his map and read where he needed to go. He folded the map lengthwise, making sure not to crease it as he did. He pulled the paper closer to his face and traced a bloodied finger against the map as he– Wait, bloody? Oh hell. Ging clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and drew away from the wall. He pulled a torch out of its holster before he made his way down the hallway.

When he finally found the light again, he squinted in pain. His eyes adjusted to the light before he took in his surroundings. This was a highly vegetated area. There were vines and shrubbery. He looked up towards the grid pattern opening that let in the sun. Birds perched above, gently chirping and hopping overhead. Ging looked left and right, spying the troughs of water to either side of him. Seeing them, Ging had a lot of questions at first, but he gave the benefit of the doubt that rain must have collected over the years. The closer he looked, however, the water looked crystal clear. It was as if it had been filtered and poured into each trough. He paused to consider it before going back with his original idea. Ging upturned his torch into one of the troughs. He was briefly satisfied by the hiss of the dying flame.

He continued forward past the many hanging vines and wall greenery. He clawed his way through, lacking a machete or anything sharp to tactfully carve his way past the obstacle. He could feel his skin being cut by thorns. His hands and arms took most of the damage naturally, but every now and again, he would wince whenever a thorny vine came too close to his face. Out of frustration, he gripped one and torn it down from where it hung. It punctured his skin something fierce, but he figure it was worth it.

Ging climbed up another level. Once at the top, he took a moment to turn himself around and sit on the ledge. It wasn't a very high climb, but he felt whoever made this tomb created it with the idea of making grave robbers exhausted. He huffed dramatically and closed his eyes. Ging unbuttoned his shirt and began to wrap it around his waist. His knuckle tapped against something hard, and it didn't feel like his belt buckle. The explorer investigated, patting himself down before soon finding the culprit. It was the coin. He held it up to the light, and it didn't reflect at all. It had been badly worn with time, giving it different colours and textures. Ging frowned a bit, turning it around slowly and bringing it closer to his face.

He looked down to his shirt when his thoughts caught up to him. He gave the coin a curious look. “I don't remember putting you in that pocket,” he mumbled. After a lingering moments, he decided to put it in his side pocket. Guess it didn't matter. He was careful coming to his feet and advanced through the next door.

The door led him to another hall housing a small staircase. The décor was a lot more elaborate, and Ging figured that he had gotten to the end of his travels. He brought out the map to make sure. There were a few bloody trails he had left behind, but everything seemed to match up. The pseudo greenroom (he could read the word for 'forest' in small print), the vines, the climb to the entrance… Yup. He lifted his head, rolled up the map, and secured it against his hip once again. Ging walked forward, passing under several dated archways until he came to a door. He gave a testing push and soon found that they were heavier than they looked. The explorer changed his stance, breathing in deep through his nose before laying his weight into his shoulders and wrists. The doors eventually gave, slowly pushing open under Ging's efforts. He groaned heavily when the doors completely opened and practically stumbled into the room. He sucked in a hiss in pain. He shook out his arms, trying to ignore the slight burning sensation. Ging looked around the room and his eyes fell upon…… a man. This was the last thing he expected.

A blond perked up across the room, and Ging could see the bright smile even from where he was standing. The blond pulled a number of furs closer to his body, and he was practically preening under Ging's comically blank gaze.

          “It must be my lucky day!” The blond chirped. His voice rang clear as a bell, echoing within the empty room. “Greetings, brave traveler. I hope those trials didn't tire you too much!”

Ging tucked his chin and stared at the blond suspiciously. For some reason, he felt like this wasn't what he signed up for. If he had read those letters, then maybe – just maybe – it would have saved him some trouble.


End file.
